From Burleigh to Boschink: A Community Called Stony Lake

BOSCHINK

INTRODUCTION

EARLY IN the planning of this commemorative book the steering committee naturally cast about for an appropriate title. They wanted it be catchy, definitive and concise—a bit like writing a ten-word telegram in the old days. Christie Bentham captured the boundaries with Burleigh and Boschink and Marg Gouinlock identified the one word that underlies this written history that ultimately came together: community. Again and again it turns up throughout various accounts. It obviously refers to settlements, places where people put down roots to live and work. However, the word community in its many senses since the 1500s also means life in association with others, commonness, a sense of common identity and characteristics. It is a word that in its history has never been used unfavourably. It is more tangible and immediate than the word society. Without experiencing community, however we define it, we may suffer isolation . . . impoverishment of spirit. Thus, this relatively small geographical area of Stony Lake represents a community in an overall sense to those who have lived and visited here. How that experience has evolved is as varied as the people.

Throughout this book the reader will recognize common threads, but whatever has drawn and continues to draw people to Stony Lake cannot be explained in words alone. For some, the community is the natural setting; for others, extended summer families and familiar friends; like Wes Willoughby, some may say, There’s a lot that doesn’t change here, and that may be what’s important to them. We have tried to let the story tell itself through many voices and pictures. Our hope is that 100 years from now Stony Lake will still be a community.

Over the centuries, many people have written published accounts about the lake and its landscape. In succeeding chapters, the reader will be able to peek into cottage logs and diaries, letters and recorded recollections, interspersed with newspaper tidbits and other local writings that give perspective to the narratives. Regarding time periods, the major focus is on the first half of the 20th century, with enough looking back and ahead to provide perspective and some historical significance.

Our first practical question concerned the boundaries of the lake communities. These are not as clearly defined as those of townships or municipalities. We made some rather arbitrary decisions for the purposes of this book. For instance, cottagers at either end of Stony Lake may well be members of our central Association. The one area of the lake that is somewhat self-contained is Upper Stoney (yes, the name of their Association has always included the e) which begins just east of Boschink Narrows and is represented by the Upper Stoney Lake Association (USLA). However, this account does include the Narrows, some of whose residents are also members of the USLA. We extend west through the Burleigh Channel to the Falls. About 20 years ago some of those cottagers formed the Juniper Point Association, partly for social reasons and partly because of development concerns. Kawartha Park has had a small but active association since 1915 (a larger evolvement of the Clear Lake Association of 1911). In the early years of the 20th century there were few cottages and virtually no development on the shores of Clear Lake. Those shores are now extensively developed and residents have formed a ratepayers’ association. In summary, this book encompasses the life and times of campers, cottagers, and settlers from Burleigh to Boschink, as the title states, and southwest to Kawartha Park with some references to Clear Lake.

The next question is thornier and definitely emotional. Ask yourself, is there ever a greater controversy when writing about a geographical area, a town or, as in this case, a lake, than how to spell it? Arguments are mounted for each possibility and proponents tenaciously defend their stand. The authors of this book represent both sides, but reached the consensus indicated in the title. The original Letters Patent of 1907 refers to the Stony Lake Cottagers’ Association, Limited, a spelling which remained in effect until the formation of the Association of Stoney Lake Cottagers Inc., March 24, 1950. However, within a year the e periodically disappeared in correspondence and other Association records, presumably at the whim of the writer. When the Yacht Club was incorporated, it omitted the e. The question of the correct spelling will likely continue until the end of time, but it does appear that in spite of the official spelling, many members of the organization lean on the side of no e. The following printed account (unfortunately no source or date is given) indicates the force of the debate.

Rapids at Burleigh Falls, high water in spring, looking north. D&S postcard series #916. Courtesy Katharine Hooke Collection.

"Some years ago, the Ston(e)y Lake Cottagers’ Association attempted to determine the official spelling of Ston(e)y Lake. Edwin C. Guillet, then the provincial archivist and author of The Valley of the Trent, argued that the spelling should be with an e. He went on at length citing numerous historical references for support. Guillet’s cousin, Jack Guillet, also present, reported that all of these cited authors were wrong: the Stony in the Bible had no e.¹ With this, all present [at an Association meeting] were made suddenly aware of the weight of their decision.

The Biblical argument did not win converts to the Stony Lake without an e counterattack. In a sampling of ten items bearing the name Ston(e)y Lake (not including the Bible), the score was tied at five with and five without. In the forefront of spelling Ston(e)y without an e was Leslie M. Frost, former Premier of Ontario. Support for this spelling comes from the Peterborough Examiner and a host of Trent Canal publications.

Edwin Guillet’s argument for Ston(e)y with an e gets support from Peterborough Land of Shining Waters, and the Peterborough Historical Atlas. At one time, proponents of this spelling toyed with the idea of resurrecting the flagship Stoney Lake of the Stoney Lake Navigation company as a symbol of their cause."² We are fortunate that early explorers, surveyors, visitors and settlers recorded their observations and sketched what they saw and measured. Join us now on a quick journey of over 200 years.

When we look back to Samuel de Champlain’s late summer expedition in 1615, we have to stretch our imagination to picture the lake more than six feet lower than it is today. The plant growth was luxuriant. An excerpt from Champlain’s journal comments on . . . the vines and walnut-trees [that] grow there in great quantity. Grapes here come to maturity, but there remains always a very pungent acidity which one feels in the throat after eating many of them . . . The cleared portion of these regions is quite pleasant. Hunting deer and bear is quite common here . . . There are also many cranes as white as swans, and other kinds of birds, resembling those in France. It is certain that all this country is very fine and of pleasing character.³ As Trevor Denton notes, . . . it would have been a marvellous sight to see the 110 Huron canoes moving through the sparkling lakes . . . and rounding Hurricane Point.⁴

Moving on to 1835, we have Susanna Moodie’s well-known account in Roughing it in the Bush. The Moodies and Traills had become close friends with Francis Young and family at Young’s Mill (as it was known then). Susanna knew well the tranquil Lake Katchawanooka from her gathering of berries and fruit, but she had little experience of Clear and Stony lakes because to travel on them presented quite an expedition. Her descriptions are vivid and detailed. . . . Clear Lake, which gets its name from the unrivalled brightness of its waters, spread out its azure mirror before us. The Indians regard this sheet of water with peculiar reverence. It abounds in the finest sorts of fish, the salmon-trout, the delicious white fish, maskinonge, and black and white bass. There are no islands in this lake, nor rice beds, nor stick nor stone to break its tranquil beauty, and, at the time we visited it, there was but one clearing upon its shore. . . . The whole majesty of Stony Lake broke upon us at once, another Lake of the Thousand Isles in miniature, and in the heart of the wilderness! Imagine a large sheet of water, some fifteen miles in breadth and twenty-five in length, taken up by islands of every size and shape, from the lofty naked rock of red granite to the rounded hill covered with oak-trees to its summit, while others were level with the waters, and of a rich emerald green, only fringed with a growth of aquatic shrubs and flowers.⁵

Catharine Parr Traill (in flowered dress at left) with daughter, Katharine Agnes (Kate), grandaughter, Ethel Traill, and niece, Katie Traill, at ‘Minnewawa,’ Kate’s cottage in the mid-1890s. Atwood Family Collection, courtesy Katharine Hooke.

In 1838, Catharine Parr Traill published an essay entitled The Mill of the Rapids in Chambers Edinburgh Journal in which she describes Stony Lake: At the head of Clear Lake are two islands, which form the entrance into Stony Lake. One, which I think I heard called Big island, was a majestic elevation of pines. The soft blue haze that rested on these islands had a charming effect, mellowing and softening the dark shade of the evergreens that crowned them with hearse-like gloom. This same Stony lake do I most ardently long to see. I am told that it contains a thousand wild and romantic scenes, and, in miniature, resembles the lake of the thousand islands in the St. Lawrence. In many parts the rocky islands are more picturesque, some of them shooting up in bare pointed craggy pinnacles abruptly from the depth of the water, while others are fancifully grouped, and clothed with flowers and trees.⁶

The following year an English traveller, James Logan, visited the Traills and recorded his impressions of Stony Lake: The scenery of this lake is very beautiful, and its numerous wooded islands, its romantic banks, and dense forests, inhabited by woodpeckers, and other gaudy birds, wolves and squirrels merit a more extended stay.⁷

However, various surveyors during the first half of the 19th century were more specific and often less enthusiastic: . . . swamps with islands of hard land, rock hills, swampy pond marshes, bad water on this ridge near Boschink, maple, beech, ironwood and elm, fit for settlement.⁸ In spite of many reservations by the surveyors, particularly on the north shore, they were impressed by the variety of trees, clear streams and a potential for development, once roads were built. On July 14, 1865, the Peterborough Review was cautiously optimistic about the possible improvement of the 20 miles of carriage road beyond Burleigh Falls. . . . Mr. T. Eastland from Peterborough carries a weekly mail delivery which no doubt will be a little less difficult thanks to a one hundred dollar donation from County Council to blast and break the continuous deposit of boulders.

By the time Susanna Moodie (age 69) and Catharine Parr Traill (age 70) returned to Stony Lake on June 22, 1872, after an absence of nearly 40 years, they still enjoyed the beauty even though extensive lumbering was denuding the shoreline. They boarded the Chippewa in Lakefield on a hot, sunny day to visit Mt. Julian. Susanna later wrote to a friend about the expedition: The sail was quite enjoyable, and the wild rocky islands of Stony Lake still in the wilderness, very beautiful. 1200 of these islands have been surveyed, without counting numbers of bare granite rocks that rear their red heads above the water uncovered with grass or lichens, that look like the bare bones of some former world. We reached our destination about 3 o’clock and dined on board. A capital picnic dinner, the gentlemen having provided us with quite a feast of good things. After dinner, we all went ashore to look for flowers in the woods, but the sun was so hot and the path so steep, and the mosquitoes and blackflies so savage to have a picnic at our expense, that we were glad to return to the boat. I scared up a great snake, which scared me, though Mr. Clementi said, that he was a beauty. To me he looked as ugly as sin and I was glad to give him a wide berth. This Stony Lake is a very grand place, and will one day be as popular as the English Lakes to the sightseers.⁹ Not only sightseers, as we well know, find pleasure in Stony Lake. The following chapters offer fascinating perspectives from all manner of people who call Stony Lake home.

One

THE LAND AND THE LAKE

WE LIKE to think of Stony Lake as a constant in our lives, yet the natural environment changes continually. Many of the oak trees have gone, victims of the gypsy moth, forest tent caterpillars and lack of moisture in the thin layer of soil. On the positive side, descendants of the white pines which were heavily logged in the last century have flourished. Invasive species such as Eurasian watermilfoil, purple loosestrife and zebra mussels have appeared, while the indigenous Canada geese, ospreys and cormorants are much more numerous.

It is difficult to imagine Stony Lake without its abundant life on land, in the water and in the air. However, in the past the landscape was often barren. At least one and a half billion years ago a vast range of mountains as high as the Rockies formed along the edge of a much older land mass, creating what we now call the Canadian Shield. Over time these mountains were worn down to their largely granite roots, thus forming the gently rolling landscape of the area north of Stony Lake. This is the land that frustrated early 19th century settlers enticed by free settlement grants. Small pockets of arable land are interspersed with marshes, shallow creeks, and the never-ending rocks.¹

About 440 million years ago, a vast inland tropical sea covered the area; glacial till settling to the bottom of this sea created the layered limestone, some of which now exists along part of the south shore of Stony Lake. The warm, shallow water of the ancient sea was good habitat for numerous life forms, resulting in many fossils now found in this limestone. During repeated Ice Ages the powerful grinding action of the glaciers, with beds of ice as deep as three kilometres, along with the torrents of water from the melting glaciers, completed the formation of our lake and the surrounding land. The most recent meltdown occurred a mere 12,000 years ago.

After the ice finally left, diverse forms of life spread slowly northward from areas not disturbed by the Ice Age, with seeds, plants, insects, birds and animals, later followed by the first human inhabitants. White and red pines with hardwoods below were common in the rocky areas, while swamps contained tamarack, cedar, alder, elm and black ash. Surveyors made note of the species and speculated on possible uses of the land and trees.²

The intensive lumbering of white pine led to the most obvious devastation as noted by early tourists and cottagers. The logs were squared in the forest so that as many as possible could be loaded into the limited space in ships. The best of this timber was prized as masts for sailing ships built in Great Britain. Later, as sawmills were erected in the area, round logs were hauled and floated to the mills and sawn lumber was produced for both local consumption and the American market. Wooden log slides were built to carry logs and avoid the rapids. By this time, species other than white pine were saleable, so clear-cutting was practised. Debris left behind on the forest floor fed frequent forest fires. Neither the means nor the inclination to put them out existed; in fact, settlers welcomed fires as an aid to clearing land for farming. John Collins, of the Collins’ family island, recalls a family story about an ancestor and friends paddling during a forest fire in the 1860s, and seeing large numbers of swimming animals fleeing the blaze. In conversation with Christie Bentham in the summer of 1999, he observed: When I replanted a tree in 1996 I dug into the fire layer only a couple of inches below the fallen leaves and a very thin layer of humus. There was a black charcoal layer about a quarter of an inch thick and beneath that the fire-broken granite crumbled into a one-inch layer of sharp particles slightly bigger than grains of sand. Evidence after 130 years! A government Forest Distribution map records that 20,000 acres in Burleigh Township burned in 1913.³

Log jam at Burleigh Falls, about 1900. If necessary, the key log would be removed or dynamite used. Courtesy Michael Fowler Collection.

Wooden log shute from a feeder lake into the waterway, about 1920. George Douglas Collection, courtesy Katharine Hooke.

Boom of logs off the east side of Big Island, looking east, 1907. Note the low water level. George Douglas Collection, courtesy Katharine Hooke.

As mentioned earlier, most of the land cleared on the north shore was unsuitable for farming and almost all of it was abandoned. Although much of the topsoil from the cleared and burned areas was lost through erosion, now there is from partial recovery to good mixed forest, particularly near the shoreline. Thanks to the efforts of concerned cottagers and environmental guidance like Project Lifeline,⁴ many property owners are carefully nurturing the habitat. In recent years, dozens of volunteers for Project Lifeline, sponsored by the Association of Stoney Lake Cottagers, completed a detailed inventory of the natural and altered shoreline features of large areas of the lake. This information is now available for use by both the Association and the local regulatory bodies as a tool to influence future development of the shoreline. However, as a result of the recent funding reductions, governments at all levels have less capability to enforce regulations. Therefore, a group called the Stony—Upper Stoney Lake Stewardship Council has been formed to continue data collection and to encourage careful consideration of the impact of human use of the lake on the health and survival of other species. One of the initial projects of this group is to encourage individual property owners to restore altered shoreline to a more natural state.⁵

This joint venture began under the initiative of Kathleen Mackenzie and Roslyn Moore, with technical advice from the Trent-Severn Waterway. Janet Owens and Paul Kyselka from the Upper Stoney Lake Association have been enthusiastic liaisons from that area. Thanks to Phred Collins’ computer expertise and wide knowledge of the lake habitat and species, the Association now has an extensive data base which is a valuable resource for other lake communities who may wish to undertake a similar project.

Catharine Parr Traill notes, in Studies of Plant Life in Canada, a flowering shrub that helps protect the shoreline. Sweet Gale . . . forms a close hedge-like thicket near the margins of lakes and ponds; those lovely inland waters, where, undisturbed for ages, it has flourished and sent forth its sweetness on the desert air.⁶ Many current gardeners with a strong naturalist’s perspective are rejuvenating their property as will become evident through their stories.

We know that the fish population species have changed and if the early cottagers’ accounts are reasonably accurate (they are fish stories), the numbers of fish have declined. One can read about the late fall herring run at least into the 1920s along the Douro/Dummer boundary. Settlers netted and salted them down in barrels. One account notes that forest fires in 1926 and ’27 raised the lake temperature so significantly that the herring came to the surface and died. Tom Cole of Otter Island, summer home of various Coles since 1883, wrote an extensive family recollection in which he clearly remembers when and what fish were available: Perch were important as well as black and green bass and ‘lunge;’ indeed, occasionally a perch of 12 to 15 would be taken and provide a good meal. The first rock bass taken in our camp was in 1924. No one knew what it was and the general surmise was a cross between a bass and a sunfish. Even though they grew bigger than sunfish they were about as unpopular of source of food because of the bone structure. That delight of epicures, the pike-perch, called in Ontario pickerel, in the U.S. walleye and in Quebec doré (how much nicer!), was first stocked in Stony in 1931 near Ship Island I was told—and the first in our camp was 1934 or 1935. Since then, also, the blue gill and the crappie appeared along with carp . . . suckers were always there and what we called catfish which were correctly named as well as eels. Upper Stony managed to produce immense white fish and occasional lake trout.

Terry Hall from Syndicate Island likewise remembers landlocked white fish and salmon being caught. Many people refer to the existence of lake trout in these waters (on earlier maps the lake is called Salmon Trout). An article on fishing in a 1984 April edition of Out of Doors states that . . . stocking of lake trout in 1922, ’24, ’25 and ’26 has been documented.⁷ Don Elliott has determined that 18 species of fish, including walleye, have been introduced to the lake.

Mackenzie Bay, with very low water, looking north in 1909. Note the usual water level on the far rock. George Douglas Collection, courtesy Katharine Hooke.

Youngsters found many sources of live bait during the Depression. According to Tom Cole, his family found abundant sources . . . of bait, perch, shiners, leopard frogs, green frogs, crawfish, white grubs and grasshoppers which were a source of both spending money and entertainment. Occasionally we would find hellgrammites and sculpin (darters we called them), but we never took to leeches. The fish they caught were a welcome addition to the family meal.

The landscape continues to change. Marilyn Ott observes: "Many huge pines have succumbed to strong